


We're Finally Intertwined

by sunshinexbomb



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, bakery!harry, flowershop!niall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-24 03:39:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/934865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinexbomb/pseuds/sunshinexbomb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry learns early on that the boy’s name is Niall and that he’s from Ireland, living with his uncle who owns the flower shop down the street from Barbara’s bakery. But before Harry learns that, he learns that Niall’s got deep blue eyes and a loud, infectious laugh and that he smells as sweet as the flowers he works with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're Finally Intertwined

**Author's Note:**

> Written because apparently Niall sees himself as some kind of flower expert after releasing their perfume. 
> 
> I know nothing about flowers, honestly, and everything about flowers in this fic was taken from minimal research on Google.
> 
> I do not own One Direction, and this is obviously a figment of my imagination. Title is from We The King's "Secret Valentine". Unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own.

Barbara gets fresh flowers delivered to the bakery every Monday.   
   
The boy from the florist comes in every week exactly at seven, just as Harry’s pulling the first batch of whatever the special is that day out of the oven. He arranges the flowers delicately on the tables and on the counters, blond hair falling into his eyes as he’s bent over in concentration. Harry doesn’t know if it’s part of his job or if he does it because Barbara always insists that he leaves with a large cup of coffee and freshly baked muffins that he takes from Harry with a cheeky smile and fingers that brush against his, lingering longer than they need to.  
   
Harry learns early on that the boy’s name is Niall and that he’s from Ireland, living with his uncle who owns the flower shop down the street from Barbara’s bakery. But before Harry learns that, he learns that Niall’s got deep blue eyes and a loud, infectious laugh and that he smells as sweet as the flowers he works with.  
   
They don’t talk much, because Harry’s slow and careful with his words at best, and when Niall’s around his tongue feels thick and heavy in his mouth. When they do speak, it’s usually Niall telling stupid flora related jokes that Harry giggles at unashamedly, only covering his mouth when he lets out that embarrassingly loud, barking laugh he does when he’s heard something particularly funny.  
   
(Niall giggles one day as he’s arranging flowers at the counter and Harry looks up from where he’s icing the cupcakes he’d baked earlier. There’s a smudge of flour across his nose that he desperately wants to wipe away but his black sleeve is covered in white and he’s afraid of making it worse.  
   
“Hey, Harry, what do you call a country where people only drive pink cars?” Niall asks, still giggling as he moves around stems and petals with his practiced fingers.  
   
“I dunno, Niall,” Harry smiles, trying to hide the blush slowly creeping up his neck by returning to his cupcakes.   
   
“ _Pink carnations,_ ” Niall answers, his laughter loud and genuine as he points to the pink flowers in front of him. Harry can’t help but laugh either - Zayn’s always told him he has a shit sense of humor, but he thinks this time it’s more because of the happy bubbly feeling that’s always in the pit of stomach when Niall’s around.  
   
“I crack myself up sometimes,” Niall says, wiping away imaginary tears from the corner of his eyes.  
   
Harry rolls his eyes but he can’t hide the large and endeared smile on his face. He ices the biggest cupcake with white frosting, tries to draw a pink carnation in the corner, and slips it into Niall’s baggie with the muffin.)  
   
It’s quite possible Harry’s a little bit gone for Niall already. He’s so bright and warm and he leaves Harry feeling almost _intoxicated_. Every day the urge to run his fingers through soft golden hair and press his nose to sweet-smelling skin grows stronger and Harry doesn’t really know what to do about it.  
   
So he does nothing except bake and smile when Niall comes in every week with his flowers. He laughs and occasionally he speaks, but mostly he finds himself falling more and more every time he sees Niall walk through the door.  
   
\--  
   
Niall comes into the bakery one Wednesday morning after the usual morning rush with a bright smile that’s a bit shier than usual and a large bouquet of familiar yellow flowers.  
   
(“Chrysanthemums,” Niall mumbles absent-mindedly from where he’s standing in front of Harry, arranging a bunch of flowers at the table nearest the counter.  
   
“What’s that, Niall?”  
   
“Did you know every flower has a different meaning?” Niall says in reply, voice louder and breaking the calm quiet of the morning.  
   
“No, I didn’t, actually,” Harry answers, looking up from the cakes he was placing inside the glass display.  
   
Niall’s eyes are glued to the white flowers, changing their positions until they look just right. “I think it’s brilliant really. White chrysanthemums stand for truth. Bronze ones for excitement. I think yellow ones are my favorite though.”  
   
“And what do those stand for?” Harry asks curiously, elbows folded along the counter.  
   
“Secret admirers.”)  
   
Harry quirks an eyebrow because Niall’s never here this late in the day, and he’s _definitely_ never here on Wednesdays.  
   
“It’s not Monday,” Harry says obviously when Niall reaches the counter and then mentally kicks himself because, _duh_.  
   
Niall just giggles, the slight tenseness in his shoulders relaxing. “I know. Special delivery today.”  
   
He hands the flowers to Harry whose eyes widen in surprise. “For me? Who from?”  
   
“Dunno,” Niall shrugs, “didn’t leave a name. There’s a note in there though.”  
   
He hands Harry the bouquet and Harry gingerly takes out the white card placed in the front. It says his name in clear, neat print, but he’s afraid to open the seal with Niall staring at him intently.  
   
Niall blinks a few times, shakes his head slowly before giving Harry his patented cheeky grin. “I’ll leave you to it then, Harry. Have a good one.”  
   
He’s walking out the door without another word, Harry staring after him, still in a state of shock that someone would be sending flowers to him.  
   
As soon as the bell above the door tinkles, Harry’s ripping open the card, his grin growing with every word he reads.  
   
 _Roses are red,_  
 _These chrysanthemums are yellow._  
 _I really do think_  
 _You’re quite the handsome fellow._  
   
 _\- Your secret admirer xx_  
   
\--  
   
Niall comes back again on Friday and then two more times the next week and the week after that, bringing flowers from Harry’s secret admirer with each visit. They always come with notes in the same neat handwriting, but they’re not always poems. Sometimes they’re just sweet little sentences that have Harry’s heart growing in fondness or colored sketches of the flowers they come with.  
   
Some days Niall sticks around to hear the notes, a smug smile playing at his lips when Harry reads them aloud. Harry plays along with it all, pretends that he doesn’t know that the flowers are not only delivered by Niall, but _from_ Niall. It’s a bit obvious from the twinkle in his eye and his eagerness to see Harry’s reaction from the notes.  
   
Harry never says anything, because he likes what’s happening between them, this sort of game they’re playing, this dance they’re doing where they both _know_ , but are too shy to do anything about it. Not only that, but it’s so wonderful seeing Niall more often than usual. Harry loves the flowers, he loves the notes, but more than that he loves seeing Niall and his bright blue eyes and captivating smile.  
   
The best is when Niall explains what the flowers mean in lieu of helping Harry figuring out who they’re from. It’s obvious that Niall loves flowers, loves their symbolism and history because he has something to say about all of them.  
   
Gerberas represent cheerfulness.  
   
Purple lilacs are for first love.  
   
Orange lilies stand for passion.  
   
Amaryllis indicate splendid beauty.  
   
Harry’s pretty sure there’s absolutely nothing more entrancing than listening to Niall talk, watching his lips form names of flowers that Harry’s never even heard of. There’s something about the way his accent twists around the syllables of the flower names that makes Harry’s heart stutter more than the lines of the handwritten notes.  
   
He thinks he could do this forever, listen to Niall explain the intricacies of flower language to him. It’s not something Harry fully understands, but it’s obvious that it makes Niall happy, and that’s enough to keep him mesmerized for hours.  
   
\--  
   
Liam works with Niall at the flower shop, comes into the bakery the few days Niall is feeling ill or has to take a day off. He’s got warm eyes and a sweet smile and Harry’s quite fond of him, to be honest. Wednesday morning, exactly four weeks after Niall delivers the first bouquet from Harry’s “secret admirer”, he’s the one to walk through the door, holding a dozen roses garnished with baby’s breath.  
   
(“What’s your favorite flower, Harry?” Niall asks one day when he first starts delivering flowers to the bakery.  
   
Harry looks up from the coffee he’s brewing in surprise, because Niall rarely asks him questions directly like this. Usually it’s just small talk and gentle quips and silly cracks about _hey, Harry, what did the baker say to the florist?_  
   
“Um, I dunno,” Harry shrugs, biting the corner of his lip nervously. “Roses are nice, I guess. And sunflowers. Yeah, I really like sunflowers.”  
   
Harry keeps the _they’re bold and beautiful just like you_ to himself.  
   
Niall’s returning smile is soft and gentle, and Harry feels a similar one slip onto his face. “Sunflowers, eh? I can see that. Did y’know sunflowers stand for warmth and happiness? I think that’s fitting for you.”  
   
“Um, thanks,” Harry says, trying to hide his growing smile by ducking his head down. His face is burning a little, but there’s a comfortable buzzing he feels in his bones because of all things, Niall associates him with warmth and happiness.)  
   
“Special delivery for a Mr. Styles,” says Liam, grinning brightly and handing the flowers to Harry who’s behind the counter.  
   
“No Niall today?” Harry asks, trying to mask his disappointment.  
   
Liam just shrugs, smiling like he knows something Harry doesn’t. “Just lil’ old me, unfortunately. I’ve got a few more deliveries to make today, so I’ll see you are around, eh? Good luck with your secret admirer.”  
   
He leaves with a laugh and a wink, Harry waving after him as he reads the day’s note with curiosity.  
   
 _Meet me in front of the florist’s at noon._  
   
 _-Your secret admirer xx_  
   
Harry’s heart beats faster, and he understands now why Liam delivered the flowers today instead of Niall. He tucks the note into the front pocket of his apron, and takes the flowers to the back to keep them safe.  
   
It seems as if the tune Harry and Niall have been dancing to is coming to an end.  
   
\--  
   
After much cajoling, Harry gets Louis to switch breaks with him so he can be at the florist’s by noon. Louis, over-dramatic as ever, pretends it’s a big deal, but watches Harry leave with a twinkle in his eye and an encouraging pat on his bum.  
   
“Go get ‘em, Haz. I’m not letting you back into this shop until you’ve been properly snogged.”  
   
Harry feels nervous and jittery as he walks down the street to the florists. He’s not sure what the anxious buzzing is coming from because he _knows_ he’s going to turn the corner and see Niall standing there in front of his uncle’s shop, knows that Niall’s the one writing these notes, and knows that this is not a set up for heartbreak because it’s quite obvious that Niall likes him too.  
   
And maybe that’s what Harry’s scared of. That suddenly this is very real and not just a _I know you know I know but we’re going to pretend neither of us know_ kind of thing. Harry wants this more than anything, but he’s also worried about what’s going to happen when he’s finally got it.  
   
Harry takes a deep breath that turns into a gasp when he turns the corner. The worry is wiped clean from his mind and replaced with sheer and utter amazement.  
   
The display in front of the small flower shop is filled with dozens and dozens of bright sunflowers, brilliantly yellow and stretching their petals towards the sun. They’re bold and beautiful and make Harry’s breath catch from their intensity.  
   
Niall’s standing there with his back turned towards Harry, rearranging a few flowers until they’re wrapped around each other just the way he wants. When he turns it’s with a huge smile and another bouquet of yellow flowers in his hands.  
   
“Did you do all this?” Harry asks, using his long legs to his advantage so he’s right in front of Niall in just a few steps.  
   
Niall looks behind him a sheepishly, ruffling his hair a bit nervously. “Uh, yeah. It’s not too much is it?”  
   
“It’s brilliant,” Harry replies in awe, and he knows it’s the right thing to say because Niall relaxes considerably.  
   
“I remembered that you said you liked sunflowers, and I just wanted to do something, y’know, special, I guess. Oh yeah, I’m your secret admirer by the way.” Niall grins, adding the second part with a loud laugh.  
   
Harry rolls his eyes, before turning and admiring Niall’s work again. “You don’t say?”  
   
Some of the sunflowers are arranged together in pots, others woven intricately together creating beautiful arches along the entrance of the shop. It’s easily the most impressive thing Harry has ever seen in his life.  
   
"What have you got there then?" Harry asks, pointing to the flowers still in Niall's hand.  
   
"Oh!" Niall exclaims, like he's forgotten all about them. He hands them to Harry with a shy smile. "They're daffodils, my favorites. Represent new beginnings. Thought they were fitting since there's nothing I want more than to start a new beginning with you."  
   
Harry beams at that, wraps his arms around a surprised Niall, and takes care not to ruin the perfectly arranged flowers in his hand. He buries his nose into the crook of Niall's neck, placing small kisses in the floral-scented skin there.  
   
Niall pulls away slightly, just enough to giggle and  bring Harry back in when their lips catch in a soft kiss. Harry grins against Niall's mouth, tries to control the fluttering in his stomach and the rapid beating of his heart because _this is finally happening._  
   
"You always knew it was me didn't you?" Niall asks when they break apart, both pink-cheeked and breathless. Niall places a hand on Harry's face, strokes his thumb over the curve of Harry's cheekbone.  
   
Harry nods, kisses Niall's cheek and the tip of his nose and the corner of his mouth. "At first, I was just hoping, but after a while it was quite obvious."  
   
"And here I was thinking I was being all sly and clever," Niall laughs.  
   
"You were very clever," Harry consoles, bringing their lips together again in a kiss so slow it's almost like they're just standing there breathing hot, comforting breaths into each other's mouths.  
   
"Well, at least it worked," Niall says, steepling their foreheads together when they separate.  
   
"That it did."  
   
\--  
   
Barbara still gets flowers delivered every Monday.  
   
Niall still walks in just as Harry's pulling that days special out of the oven and he still arranges the bouquets around the shop beautifully.  
   
But now when he leaves it's not just with a coffee and muffin, but also with soft, early-morning kisses that Harry is eager to give and the promise that he will always have a beautiful boy to bring flowers to.


End file.
